


masked.

by kixlepixle



Series: masked. [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: .... how does that even work?, Angels, Dystopia, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Gen, Jellyfish, Magic, Marriage Out of Spite, Mermaids, Propaganda, War, i know its angels vs mermaids its weird ok, opposite sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10766295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kixlepixle/pseuds/kixlepixle
Summary: There is a way they look at each other instead of Looking at each other, and in the midst of all this war and bloodshed, neither are sure of what that means.





	masked.

Quinn's an average petrel seraph that was born into the mountains of what was once Northwest Vietnam. Like every seraph, he has no parents and no siblings, only a unit made up of people his age, his race, and his ethnicity.   
  
But despite what other species think, seraphs aren't completely made of stone-cold oppressive totalitarians. Quinn was raised in a unit of friends - other petrels with the same wings and masks that he had. Like all country folk, they're loyal to each other, they're friendly, they break minor and major social norms every now and then and pray the military police can’t find them. Of course, never the mask, because in a society such as theirs, the idea of a bare face out in the open is equal to a death sentence.

  
They rebel as much as they can in this dystopian society like the reckless teens they are and get around. They worm their ways into beds and into hearts. Local farmers curse them as heathens to society- other units of their age watch them with envy and wish they had the courage do the same. They are happy, they are joyful, and they are safe even in the middle of a war hard fought because, hey, if people were drafted away to die, they died so they could live, right? At least, that's what Quinn thinks as he wastes his days away in parties and liquor and warm bodies.   
  
Until the war hits his town and steals away a third of his unit and countless more around him.   
  
And instead of crying or denying it like the rest of the survivors do, he finds his own bitter coping method and goes dry-eyed to the nearest recruiting station on the spot. And for the first time, he believes the propaganda posters of wide-eyed, bare-faced, heartless demons are true, because not once did he see an inkling of remorse in the body language of the cold-blooded men that stole his family and friends.   
  
If there is pain, he thinks nothing of it. If his unit hates him because he contributes to the war, he plugs his ears and charges on. If the older officers look down at his frame with the hungry gaze of a predator meeting it’s prey, he turns around and finds another seat to sit in. And if the trenches dig into his delicate skin, the slog of the water gives his toes frostbite, the stench of the rats that feast on dead seraphs strip him of his innocence, rob him of his peace of mind, and rip him away his sanity, he grits his teeth and lives on out of pure spite.

 

_ (And if he has to look across No Man’s Land and meet the eyes of a young boy just his age, a rifle in his hand and a terrified look in his eyes that Quinn’s own masks cover before the BANG of a gun and the splatters of the other boy’s brains and-) _

  
  
Well.

 

All is fine the way it is.   
  
(And it is, it's fine, he's fine, he has bodies to bury in and liquid to help forget the piles of letters under his bed and the blood on his hands and that's all he needs, really.)   
  
That is, until out of nowhere, he meets her.   
  
Like the magic around her fingertips or the ancient disguise she wears, she is ever changing. And despite originating from one of the numerous enemies his species has, she is the one rock in his life that grounds him and his senses.   
  
For the first time in eternity, he combs his hair back before attending a meeting. He fixes his clothes before seeing a commander. He plans his date nights instead of meeting strangers in the local bar. And he finally, finally writes back to his unit he left behind.

  
And if there's a way Bee talks more about him than her, he dubs her as a good friend. If there's a way he knows almost nothing of her personal life, he thinks of it as her being shy. If there's a way Bee's magic always seems to dwell around his mind a bit too long after she heals him, Quinn thinks it's out of concern.   
  
And if there's a way her eyes gleam at him the same way his general’s does during tactics, he thinks nothing of it.   


* * *

There is a way Bee is Looked at her whole life that gets under her scales, in her still heart and pierces her soul.   
  
When she grows up as the heir in the Royal Counselor's family, she is dressed up pretty to be judged and gazed upon by the hundreds of higher class. It takes all her will to smile and pose, smile and pose, and not break out into a frantic swim to the safety of her backyard reef.    
  
(At the very least, she is thankful that she does not have to suffer the way her friend has to, being true royalty.)   
  
When she goes to a private school - the largest, the grandest in the nation - it is all she can do to prevent lashing out at the people who look and whisper about her based off her body or accessories and not her personality and intellect. She is so overwhelmed that she eventually begs, actually  _ begs _ her parents to allow her to have a mentor instead of school.    
  
(They argue and fight about her need to develop a social circle, but they give in, because she is their daughter, and she can manage.)   
  
When she grows up and becomes a famous face in the fields of medication and technology, she is Looked at by people who attend each event. Every month, every birthday, every equinox or solstice or whatever crazy occasion she must show her face at, the best she can do is grit her teeth and move on. Shake this hand, hug that CEO, include them in her ever-growing social ring.    
  
(She is hailed for her grace and intellect, but the day this comes, Bee wonders if they see her or an imposter.)   
  
So when Bee is forced to stand pretty and tall for people to try court her, she is surprised when a middle class tiger shark immigrant enters the room manages to  _ look  _ at her instead of  _ Looking  _ at her.   
  
Her name is Jacqueline and she entered the competition out of a bizarre sense of humor and a drink too many. Born from the Northern Seas, her family is decently living, but only enough to survive the winters. Adequately talented, but not exceptionally so. Pleasantly pretty, but not spectacularly so.   
  


But her eyes, her eyes tell tales of wisdom and heartbreak and wit and anger and weave stories that only someone who's just as smart, just as soulful, and just as wanderlusting as her very own can tell. In the most frightening and exhilarating moment of her life, Bee swears she’s found God.

  
Bee doesn't think she's ever loved anyone in her life as much as much as Jackie.   
  
The two of them get married because they decide,  _ hey, let's leave these other rich losers to themselves and start our own cult. _ Unfortunately, they don't start their own cult, but they’ve managed to start their own lives instead.   
  
Bee adopts a jellyfish as a pet. She finds Stunner quite a charm at night. Jackie retaliates and adopts two. And three stingrays. And an eel. And a very small, very young whale she keeps at the local zoo.   
  
For the first time in Bee's existence, she feels utter peace and content because she is  _ looked  _ at with pride and joy and love in her private home and private estate with her private family.   
  
So when two royal guards knock on her house one day and gives her a serious Look, Bee prays to all the deities of Nahila she knows because what Bee's forced to do next will break Jackie's strong heart.   
  
And she is not wrong. The war has gotten too close to the national capital, and so the shabby new Royal line panics and turns towards towards the ones the trust the most. An order is executed to all of those in the government class: find a way to end the war _ at once _ . And Bee, like the rest in the ruling class, is told to go out, go spy, find information, and not return until she has sufficient evidence.

 

She hardly has time to explain to Jackie, before she is kicked out and told not to come back unless it’s with a prisoner.   
  
And the worst part is, Bee can only grit her teeth and start a new life, under a new disguise and new name.   
  
It takes weeks to find any sort of lead, and more than half the time it’s only to reveal a false trail. It takes months and months on end to discover one with any inkling of promise, months spent moving from region to region with only a photo of her home as comfort. Bee is tired, she is weary and she is angry. So when she manages to charm a poor and innocent petrel soldier into trusting her, she thinks,  _ yes, this is jackpot, she can finally go home.  _ __   
  
He is an information outlet, a key back into the kingdom she was locked out of, a mere chess piece to manipulate and use to find the secrets of the enemy. He is valuable to her, and she tells him just as much.   
  
And if her advice seems too sincere, she tells herself she's making a believable guise. And if she is too eager to sing songs when the boy says he’s never heard one before, she brushes it off as a curiosity. And if she frets and tends to him every time he returns from a particularly hard battle, she tells herself it's just to keep her only reliable way home stable.   
  
And if he looks at her instead of Looking at her, she tries her best to think nothing of it.

**Author's Note:**

> !! another oc universe, you ask? ah, i have 7, and these are all just the rough drafts. if you're curious about these guys, feel free to hit me up on my ig (kixlepixle) or shoot me a review!


End file.
